


A dream

by Elenyafinwe



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Founder Era, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, One Shot, Tobirama being Tobirama, Uchiha Madara-centric, beginning treason, not quite unrequitted love but also not fully requitted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:42:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29512692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenyafinwe/pseuds/Elenyafinwe
Summary: Konohagakure is like a dream come true. The village symbolises everything Hashirama has ever dreamed of. Madara, however, sees the shadows beyond the beautiful appearance and gradually realises that Konoha is nothing more than that: a fleeting dream, doomed to fail.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	A dream

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Ein Traum](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/762021) by Elenyafinwe. 



> So that's it, my debut in the Naruto fandom, because I have a new obsession that's a certain goofball named Hashirama and I'm absolutely not ashamed of it. It's a bit weird to write a relationship that doesn't last for thousands of years because the persons involved are no elves or even gods (*cough* Morgoth/Sauron *cough*) and I'm still wondering if my main Fandom, Tolkien's Middle-earth, is showing. But anyway. Here it is. Expect more to come.
> 
> CN trauma, loss of loved ones, thoughts of revenge, murderous desires, slight suggestion of sexual content

A dream. Nothing more than a dream. Konohagakure was solely the dream of two naïve boys.

Madara had long since ceased to be that boy. This boy had been washed away by the blood of his slain enemies. And yet here he was now, standing on the branch of a tall tree that overlooked the village, watching Hashirama make his usual way through.

As usual, Hashirama began his rounds at the house he had built. Soon he reached a flower shop where he stopped for a little chat with the shopkeeper, an old lady, as he did every day. She always gave him a flower and explained the meaning of the blossom. "For your lady, Senju-sama," she commented. Later that day, that same flower would end up in Madara's hair, this was as certain as the sunrise in the morning.

Hashirama's next stop was usually a very specific dango shop a few streets away. Being as punctual as clockwork, the shopkeeper always had his favourite dango already laid out. A rehearsed banter ensued, with Hashirama insisting on payment and the shopkeeper refusing it. This went back and forth three times until in the end Hashirama got his way.

With the dango in hand, Hashirama now went to the academy. He rarely entered the classrooms so as not to disturb the lessons, but was content to sit on a bench at the edge of the school grounds, eat his dango and watch the goings-on from a distance. Even from this great distance, Madara could see Hashirama literally beaming with pride. The academy was the centrepiece of the dream he had been able to realise.

The path he took after that was no longer so strictly defined. He usually strolled leisurely through the village, which was still under construction, and looked at the progress of the building work. For particularly difficult matters, he usually helped out with his Mokuton and probably would have built the whole village single-handedly if Tobirama did not remind him over and over again of his other duties.

The people loved him, even worshipped him. Izuna's eyes saw it clearly and much more. It was still a strange sight for Madara to see shinobi bonded in friendship, and yet members of various clans bowed to Hashirama. Although Hashirama was not really that imposing in his shapeless hakama and the haori with his family crest and his boring hairstyle.

 _Well, at least better than in the past_ , Madara thought to himself with a slight grin.

And yet there was something about Hashirama that made him win people's hearts. He had made a dream come true that had seemed impossible just a few years ago. Nevertheless, they had reached that point now, and even the Uchiha trusted the Senju and no longer went for each other's throats. Other clans were joining them in increasing numbers and shinobi from other countries were already beginning to imitate their concept.

But Izuna's eyes also saw what lay behind this beautiful appearance. They saw the looks that followed Madara, how heads were put together in whispers and how, despite the mutual words of trust, the Uchiha kept to themselves and had their own district in the village that hardly anyone from outside ever entered. It was like a village within a village. Hashirama might look ahead, but Madara also looked behind and saw the shadows.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Tobirama appeared beside him, and just as suddenly, Madara felt a chill. "That's my tree," Tobirama remarked dryly.

"Tse, I didn't know you had such possessiveness over a piece of wood, Senju-san," Madara replied mockingly. Of course, he had noticed that Tobirama had marked this tree as well as many other suitable vantage points in the village for his Hiraishin. From here, one had a good view of large parts of the village and Tobirama in particular could get from one point to another in a flash, should it be necessary.

As usual, Tobirama was not easily ruffled. "Keep your hands off my brother. I have put up with your doings without comment for far too long."

Madara gave him a sideways glance. "And you're telling me this? It seems to me rather that your brother can't keep _his_ hands off _me_."

Tobirama turned away pointedly. "My brother is naive, and you know that very well because you have used that very naivety against him far too often. Of course I am telling _you_ that. So stay away from my brother."

"You're just jealous because on the contrary to Hashirama you're going to die as a quarrelsome old maid," Madara teased. "You are so incredibly humourless, no one wants you." In the presence of Tobirama, he found it hard to keep his manners, and that was probably putting it kindly. It was this man who had torn a hole in his chest where one had been his heart. Hashirama's dream or not, but he would never be able to forgive Tobirama for that.

If Tobirama's eyes could shoot lightning, Madara would surely fall crisp-roasted from the branch. Instead, he bowed mockingly to Tobirama. "It was nice having this chat with you, Senju-san." With that, he swung down from the branch and leapt away. Just get away from this guy or there would be another disaster sooner or later.

He found Hashirama by one of the fields creating some wooden beams. An Uchiha burned these to ashes with his Katon, which, when it cooled, was collected by the farmers and scattered in the fields. Madara had been watching this with interest for a while when Hashirama finally noticed him. Grinning broadly, he beckoned him over.

"Isn't this wonderful?" he exclaimed enthusiastically when Madara had come closer. "With the ashes as fertiliser, the fields will thrive much better and the earth will be more fertile. We will have legendary harvests!"

"You exaggerate," Madara retorted, but smiled.

Still laughing, Hashirama wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek. That drove away the chill in Madara. At least a little. Together they watched the farmers scatter the ashes on the fields.

"It seems like a dream," Hashirama finally continued. "Uchiha and Senju working side by side to make the world a better place. Who would have ever thought it possible?"

"You thought it possible and then you made it possible," Madara replied. His smile softened as he leaned against Hashirama. Who would have thought that this hopeless optimist would ever awaken such sides of him?

"But I couldn't have done all this without you," Hashirama remarked. Then he noticed. "Oh. I have something for you."

"You do? Let me guess: a flower."

"How do you know?" Hashirama's voice dripped with irony. Then he fished out of his clothing the flower he had received earlier from the old florist and tucked it into Madara's mane of hair. Madara thought the whole flower thing was ridiculously tacky, but he put up with it because it seemed to give Hashirama pleasure and he liked to see him laugh so much.

Hashirama stepped back and looked at his handiwork with satisfaction. "Colour suits you."

"No," Madara only said icily.

Hashirama knew it was just a facade and didn't let it bother him. "Do you know what flower this is?"

"Do I look like I have eyes on the top of my head?" Nevertheless, he plucked the flower from his hair again and looked at it. It was a five-petalled flower, its edges a soft pink that changed to yellow towards the inside of the calyx. He shrugged and put the flower back in his hair. "I don't know. Just a flower."

"A freesia, of course, Madara-chan!", Hashirama clarified him happily. "And I think this flower suits you particularly well. And do you know why?"

"No. But I'm sure you'll explain it to me in a moment."

"Ha! That's right! Because freesias symbolise mutual trust and loyalty. See? How made for us!"

Madara rolled his eyes, but smiled. "You hopeless romantic."

Hashirama nudged him in the side. "And you're a hopeless grumpy bear. But come, let's go home, it's already afternoon."

They turned away and made their way to Hashirama's house. Actually, Madara had his own home in the Uchiha district, but for some months now he had been spending visibly more time with Hashirama. Even if that meant running into Tobirama far more often than he would have liked. But maybe he managed to scare Tobirama away enough that he would look for his own house and no longer live with his older brother.

"You could have had it easier with the ashes," Madara remarked as they walked along.

"Yes yes, I know, your Haijingakure. But after all, we don't want to burn down the fields before we plant them. And look at it this way: the symbolic effect of my Mokuton and your Katon is also greater this way. Two forces that used to bring only death and destruction now bring new life."

Madara just shrugged. "Well, if you say so. I still think my way is easier."

"Just because something is easier doesn't mean it's better."

Madara said nothing more about it. He knew that he could not divert Hashirama from his path if he had his mind set on a certain goal. And it was true, there was a certain symbolism in this approach.

But would it be enough?

When they reached the house, the smell of food was already wafting towards them. Hashirama sniffed. His eyes lit up enthusiastically. "Tobirama has cooked rice soup with mushrooms!"

Madara's enthusiasm was in check. He should not have hoped not to have to meet Tobirama again today. A little slower, he followed Hashirama into the house. Hashirama had long since stormed into the kitchen and was hanging enthusiastically over the pot of soup. If there was one thing he could not resist, it was this dish. Even if the cook was Tobirama, whose food basically tasted like mushy cardboard.

Tobirama scowled at Madara when he saw him step through the door. "One would almost think you live here, Uchiha-san."

Though it sometimes didn't seem that way, Hashirama was well aware of the animosity between Tobirama and Madara. He looked sternly at his brother, and usually it was that look that kept Tobirama at bay. Yet.

"I invited him, brother. He is our guest," Hashirama insisted adamantly.

Tobirama realised he had to comply, much like Madara. Hashirama had made the impossible possible and united the shinobi. Now he apparently intended to do the same with his brother and his partner. Madara, however, doubted the success of this plan.

Even though he clearly did not like it, Tobirama did not complain further and served for three instead of only two. While he and Madara spooned their food in icy silence, Hashirama pounced on his portion and slurped it down in no time, immediately giving himself another helping. When it came to his rice soup, he could shovel amazing quantities into himself.

"Work in the fields was excellent," Hashirama finally said when the silence became uncomfortable.

"Good," Tobirama commented simply. "Have you thought about what I told you this morning?"

Hashirama sighed and looked at Madara. Then he nodded. "Yes, I have."

He grasped Madara's hand. Madara felt as if he were being pierced by Tobirama's gaze. Madara returned the look as if to say: See, I'm not the one who can't keep his fingers to himself.

"Madara-chan, I know what I said to you just a few days ago," Hashirama continued. "That I wish you to become Hokage, because this village is as much your merit as it is mine. If you had not trusted me, then none of this would have ever come to pass. But Tobirama is also right. Konohagakure is no longer our work alone, but the work of all, and therefore all should have a say in such a crucial matter. I will propose you as Hokage, but ultimately everyone will vote on it."

Madara felt as if an icy fist was gripping his guts and crushing them. If it really came to a vote, it was foreseeable what the outcome would be. He knew that Tobirama wanted this, he had overheard the conversation between the two brothers. But now to hear that Hashirama agreed to it hurt on a whole other level.

For a tiny moment he had been able to believe in Hashirama's vision. With the next heartbeat, that dream shattered into a thousand shards.

"Now say something, Madara-chan!"

Madara put on his mask and smiled. "That's a good idea. Things are different now, and accordingly, we should take new paths now and leave the old ones behind. And it's true after all, even the Uchiha acknowledge that you, a Senju, are the real founder of the village."

Hashirama seemed relieved and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he smiled. "I am glad you agree."

Since that seemed to be the end of the subject, Hashirama was already squinting at the remains of Madara's food. "Do you still want this?" he asked hopefully.

Madara was glad to no longer have to choke down Tobirama's stodge and willingly pushed his bowl towards Hashirama. At least he didn't have to dispose of the food inconspicuously in one of Hashirama's bonsai bushes. Eagerly, Hashirama made his way over the food, and slowly it became amazing that anything at all could still fit inside him.

The silence became uncomfortable again.

With his hands on his knees, Madara indicated a slight bow to Tobirama and made an effort to rise. "I thank you for the invitation and the food, and now ask to be allowed to leave."

Hashirama held him back and put on his best puppy eyes. "I had hoped you would stay the night."

Tobirama turned away pointedly and pouted. This earned him a peck from his brother. His indignant look, however, only made Hashirama laugh. "Oh, come on, Tobirama-chan! Don't pull a face like three days of rainy weather. I know for a fact that deep in your hearts, you know you're just pretending to dislike each other."

Madara saw his brother lying in front of him, the brother whose eyes he now had. Tobirama was quite right about one thing: Hashirama could be terribly naïve when it came to certain things.

They cleaned up the dishes, and Madara made sure to always have Hashirama between him and his brother. And yet, when Hashirama had already left the room and Madara wanted to follow him, Tobirama stopped him.

"Keep your hands off my brother," he hissed.

Madara freed herself from his grip and fought the urge to wash away the feeling of Tobirama's hands. The hands that had slain Izuna.

"Certainly. And the flower landed in my hair all by itself," he scoffed.

"Bah!" Tobirama stared him down. Madara held his gaze and returned it just as unyieldingly with Izuna's eyes. Let that gaze haunt Tobirama for all eternity!

"It's time you stopped these childish jealousies, Senju-san. They really make you look silly." With these words, Madara turned away and followed Hashirama.

Of course Madara stayed and of course he did not keep his hands off Hashirama. Hashirama wouldn't have allowed anything else either. When he wanted something, he got it. For once, Madara did not mind being on the receiving end of that desire. It had been going on for several months now and somehow it felt natural.

If only it weren't for Tobirama.

If it weren't for Tobirama, it might even be able to last.

Later that night, Madara awoke gasping from a nightmare. His Mangekyō pierced the darkness of the night as the horrors of the dream held him captive. His breath came in jerks and his heart raced.

War. Always war and rivers of blood. And in the midst of it all, Izuna.

Sleepily, Hashirama stirred. As he did every night, he lay sprawled across Madara. He had always been a messy sleeper, which usually ended in him getting tangled in the blankets or claiming the entire bed for himself. Usually both were true. Normally Madara would have given him a good smack by now to put him in his place, but in moments like these, Hashirama's familiar weight on his chest calmed him.

Madara breathed a sigh of relief. The panic was fading.

"What's wrong?" mumbled Hashirama, blinking up at Madara.

Madara smiled, wrapped his arms around him and breathed a chaste kiss on his forehead. "Go back to sleep." Then he put a gen-jutsu on him.

No, he would not find any more sleep that night, but he did not want to disturb Hashirama with his restlessness either. Silently he threw on his clothes and then scurried out of the house.

His path inevitably led him to the cliff that towered over the village. Somehow, sooner or later, everything led back here. He remembered well how he had often played here as a child with Hashirama and how they had measured their strength in friendly duels.

Later, these duels became bloody and deadly serious and their time together seemed to have no meaning any more. During that time, only one truth had existed for Madara: The Senju were the enemy to be wiped out. At any price. The path of the shinobi had always been one full of hardship and suffering, personal feelings had no place in it. After all, it had only been a dream of two naïve boys.

A dream. Nothing more than a dream.

Despite the Mangekyō Sharingan, Hashirama had proven stronger in the end, and despite the path he had taken, Madara had still allowed his personal feelings to guide him at that moment. If the roles had been reversed, if Madara had been stronger, would he have managed to slay Hashirama? He did not know. He did know, however, that at that moment he had not wanted to see his old friend die. That tiny moment of sentimentality had opened up a whole new path for them.

A lot had happened since then and they had come a long way. But unlike Hashirama, Madara could not forget what had once been. That despite all his strength, he had not been able to protect his brothers. And that it was Tobirama, of all people, who had slain Izuna.

It was also Izuna's eyes that had opened the full truth to him at the Naka shrine, and since then he saw it everywhere. He was not the only one who could not let the past rest. Hashirama's peace was an illusion, as fleeting as his dream.

Morning was already dawning in the east when Hashirama finally found him. He sat down next to Madara on the edge of the cliff and gave him an exaggeratedly stern look. "Nobody puts a gen-jutsu on me and then just sneaks away!"

"It lasted a decidedly long time for that," Madara replied dryly.

Ashamed, Hashirama hung his head.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Hashirama-chan," Madara added more conciliatorily.

Hashirama smiled softly and moved up closer to him to wrap an arm around his waist and rest his head on his shoulder. "Oh, don't. You don't have to worry about that."

Madara said nothing in reply, nor did Hashirama probe further. He was so terribly understanding and knew full well that Madara would already speak if he wanted to. And if he didn't, he would accept that too.

Madara was definitely not someone who was up for sentimentality of any kind. Nevertheless, Hashirama always managed to get him to give in with his unyieldingly gentle manner.

"It was a nightmare," Madara finally said quietly. "Again."

"It would be naïve to think that the time of war had passed us by without a trace," Hashirama said gravely, his eyes fixed on the village. "And believe me when I say that I am truly sorry for all that has happened to you."

 _What if Izuna had killed Tobirama? What would you say then?_ But Madara did not voice this thought, even though it came from the bottom of his heart. He wished that this was the reality, he really wished it very much.

"Izuna's loss has torn a hole in my chest where once my heart had been," Madara murmured.

Hashirama looked to him now. "I know. I see the darkness in you and words cannot even express how much I regret that it all had to come to this. But do you remember what I said to you? About the people of this village?"

Out of reflex, Madara was about to dismiss it as nonsense, but he held back. Hashirama sincerely meant well by him, and he didn't want to reject him so harshly. "That they are my family now," he therefore repeated. "But then, I couldn't even protect my own family." Not from the Senju and least of all from Tobirama.

If Madara was honest with himself, he wanted nothing more than to drive a kunai through Tobirama's heart. And that, even though he knew the wound he would inflict on Hashirama as well.

"Your glass-is-half-empty attitude is a terribly bad habit, Madara-chan!", Hashirama rebuked him. "We are creating a new world here and it is time to look forward. Look at all we have already achieved."

Madara looked at him. "How do you do it? How do you manage to leave all the misery behind and move forward with such vigour?"

Hashirama smiled. "Because I don't regret. I don't forget what was, but I don't look back either. What has happened has happened and cannot be undone. But in the here and now I have influence on what tomorrow might be, and I want to use that. Oh, sure, sometimes that's hard for me too, whenever I have to think about Kawarama and Itama. But there are still people in my life who are close to my heart and who stand by my side. And you, Madara-chan, are not alone either. The village is your family now."

Madara wondered, however, if the village would see it that way. Always looking forward, after all, denied one the opportunity to see what was happening behind one's back.

Hashirama cleared his throat. "And besides, there's something else I still haven't told you."

"Uh-huh?"

All at once, Hashirama blushed up to his ears. He sprouted a red rose from his left hand and handed it to Madara. Even Madara knew what a red rose stood for.

"Iloveyou," Hashirama mumbled.

For some reason, Madara lost his tongue and stared wordlessly at Hashirama. Hashirama apparently misinterpreted this because almost like a flight he moved away from him, wrapped his arms around his knees and once again hung his head.

"Ohgodohgodohgod!" he wailed. "I've made a complete fool of myself! You have permission to push me off this cliff here and now to remove this embarrassment from your life, Uchiha-sama!"

Before he could say anything more stupid, Madara sealed his lips with a kiss. Hashirama looked at him in surprise, but then he visibly relaxed and returned the kiss. He wrapped his arms around Madara as he sat down on his lap.

"You're an idiot, Hashirama-chan," Madara murmured, leaning his forehead against Hashirama's.

"Perhaps, but at this moment, a very happy idiot after all." Hashirama laughed to himself as flowers and fluffy green moss sprouted from the ground around him. "This is my brother's nightmare."

"Tse. If anyone can throw himself off this cliff, it's him. He's just jealous because he'll never get anyone off with his mean-spirited ways."

Hashirama then burst out laughing. "That's how it will be!"

Madara had to admit to himself that he liked it when Hashirama laughed at the top of his lungs.

"Do you know what my brother said to me the other day? That it was long past time for me, as clan head, to provide for an heir. But I have another idea. The war has left many orphans, we could adopt a child instead. Or several. How does that sound?"

Madara backed away from him. "Completely stupid it sounds! No one would willingly trust me with a child!"

Hashirama eyed him thoughtfully. "Hm, with that face, you could indeed be better as a bugbear."

"Say, what do you think you're doing?!" clamoured Madara. "First you make a show of being oh so romantic and then something like this! I'm really going to throw you off the cliff!"

At this, however, Hashirama just laughed and pulled him close again. "I'd like to see you try that," he murmured in his ear.

Madara shuddered. Bloody idiot, he knew how to wrap Madara around his finger.

Sighing comfortably, Hashirama buried his face in Madara's mane of hair. "Freesias have another aspect of meaning. They are often used for wedding bouquets."

Madara felt a chill. He took Hashirama's face between his hands and grasped him firmly in his gaze. "Stop it, Hashirama-chan. Stop it, this is ... this is too fast."

Hashirama's look spoke of honest hurt. He slumped his shoulders. "Forgive me, I wasn't thinking."

Madara smiled and brushed a strand of hair from his face to cover that uncomfortable feeling. "Just give it a little more time."

Visibly relieved, Hashirama returned the smile. "Well, no direct rejection at least."

"I haven't sent you off the cliff with a kick in your ass yet, look at it this way."

This now made Hashirama laugh again. "Right!"

For a while they just sat there in silence, hugging each other tightly. Below them, the village gradually came to life. At some point, Hashirama began to breathe soft kisses on Madara's neck, which were soon followed by his teeth. Madara heaved a sigh of pleasure.

"So you want a second round," he concluded, unable to suppress a shudder.

"Maybe."

Hashirama's warm breath brushed across Madara's throat, melting the ice inside Madara. That fool! He shouldn't be able to do such a thing to Madara!

But then Hashirama straightened up and looked at Madara seriously. All playfulness was gone from his gaze. "Actually, I have something to ask you that I have been putting off for far too long. Something regarding your eyes."

Madara returned the look as well. He moved away from Hashirama and sat down beside him. This issue had been floating unspoken between them for a long time. Hashirama had cautiously tried to bring it up again and again in the past, but Madara had always brushed him off. But maybe it really was time now. Sooner or later they would have to talk about it anyway, Hashirama had already noticed during their last, all-important fight that Madara's eyes had changed. "Then ask."

For a moment Hashirama was silent, seeming to search for the right words. "Your Sharingan, it awakens when you feel strong emotions like hate or pain, doesn't it?"

Madara forbore to show any emotion. "It's only partly true," he explained matter-of-factly. "Indeed, the Sharingan awakens when we feel strong emotions towards a person close to us. This often turned out to be hatred or pain, but it can also correspond to a desire to protect a loved one. Remember that time when we were skipping stones across the river for the last time? My father thought my Sharingan had awakened because I had wanted to protect Izuna. But the truth is that I had attained it before that, even though I had never told him about it."

He left open the implication that came with these words. Hashirama did not ask either.

"There are ... rumours that your Sharingan becomes stronger the more hatred you feel," Hashirama continued.

Ah, that flea Tobirama had put in his ear. That wretch! He really left no stone unturned to drive a wedge between them!

"As I said before, it doesn't have to be such feelings," Madara said pointedly calmly, so as not to show any of the storm that was raging inside him. He should have just demanded that Hashirama killed his brother then, and not given him a choice. That would have made so many things easier.

Hashirama breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. But there is one more thing I need to know. One that concerns Izuna and your eyes. Listen carefully, Madara-chan, because I want to stress that I don't believe them. You, of all people, are supposed to have killed your brother to increase your eye power? That's ridiculous! But there is something different about your eyes. What is it?"

So this idiot hadn't always looked ahead after all, but had glimpsed the shadows a time or two. Madara was well aware of these rumours, and also of the fact that they had already taken far too strong roots among the Uchiha to eradicate them completely now.

"The Mangekyō Sharingan," Madara said quietly. "The strongest and rarest form of Sharingan. Some say you have to kill someone close to you to get it, and that's where these rumours come from. But that is not true. It is enough for the bearer to witness the death of a loved one. For Izuna and me, they were two very good friends. Ironically, we were also forced to kill them single-handedly because they were turncoats and traitors who passed secret information to you Senju. We had hoped that our combined eye power would be enough to win the war for us, but that was not so, as you know. We even found that the excessive use of the Mangekyō diminished our eyesight. I went blind."

Hashirama looked at him in amazement. "And what happened then?"

"Izuna knew that too much depended on our Mangekyō, so even on his deathbed he suggested that I take his eyes so that I could at least see for a little while longer. That's how it turned out, and I noticed something else. Something in the transplant process must have changed the Mangekyō, because I got my full eye power back and it was no longer weakened by further use of the Mangekyō. My Mangekyō is now an eternal Mangekyō. That is the secret of the Uchiha's eyes."

Hashirama nodded gravely. Then he bowed deeply. "I thank you for your candour."

If only he knew. Once he himself had told Hashirama that the only way to achieve permanent peace was for everyone to be open and honest with each other during and turn their innermost selves inside out. Hashirama had done that, he had been willing to sacrifice his own life for that of his brother. But his mistake had been not to ask the same of Madara. He was always so intent on convincing the whole world of his good intentions that it did not occur to him that others did not necessarily see it the same way.

Madara had no intention of telling Hashirama about his innermost feelings. About how he wanted nothing more than to see Tobirama lying dead in front of him. About what would happen if this Hokage thing happened in Tobirama's favour.

Madara was well aware that no one would vote for him, no matter how determined Hashirama stood behind him. Yet he knew Madara didn't like anyone standing behind him ... Hashirama would become Hokage and after him Tobirama, even if he wanted Madara as his successor (and that was also guaranteed to happen). And once Tobirama held power, it could not end well for the Uchiha.

Still Madara had an obligation to his clan as well. He had tried to warn them what would happen if the Senju finally gained full control of this new world, but they would not listen. They were too weary of war to see the truth and called Madara a warmonger and a fratricide.

The truth was that not even his own clan was united behind him any more.

And perhaps that was for the best. For then he was free to pursue his own dream. Hashirama was an idealist who wanted to make his dreams a reality. Madara, on the other hand, was a realist who knew that dreams were nothing more than fleeting thoughts. Hashirama's way could not work; the shinobi world would never find peace that way. Madara had seen the truth and this time he was willing to do anything for it.

Even if it meant that he and Hashirama would end up facing each other as enemies again. Such was the world of the shinobi. Indeed, it would be best if he simply ended it.

"Look, what a beautiful sunrise over Konohagakure!" noted Hashirama with a broad grin. He put an arm around Madara and leaned against him.

"Indeed," Madara agreed quietly. "Like a dream."

A dream. Nothing more than a dream.


End file.
